Return of heroes
by Whoa Heavy
Summary: The power of the Spire allowed three wishes to Sparrow. But why only three? In a universe where he can talk, perhaps he makes another. That all people have the potential to become heroes. But what starts as a simple hope of mankind, becomes it's greatest threat. Post Fable 2 AU.


_**Return of heroes: Year 1-20**_

_**Chapter one: A wish**_

_**.**_

The Tattered spire. A Archeon designed, Lucien built monument to evil. With it a person could rewrite the whole of reality, change existence on whim. It's power could destroy an nation. Maybe even the world. And now, as Lucien stood there rambling on and on about his plans, I considered all that had happened over the past twelve years. I had gone from A poor gypsy teen in Bower lake, to the hero of Oakfield, Crucible champion, escaped the spire, become the overall property owner of all of Albion. I, a lone hero, have managed to change the fate of an entire nation. My allies of heroes had been restricted in their actions, but had they been unleashed what benefits could they have given to society? How could they have change Albion.

"Lucien, shut up for a second." I said.

Hammer gasped.

"You can talk?" She asked.

"In tens years of imprisonment, that's a first." Said Garth.

"Hmm... I expected something a little more... Heroic than that." Said Reaver disappointed.

"I shall become a god!" Shouted Lucien.

"Therasa. I've made my wish." I commanded.

"And what would that be hero?" Asked Theresa,

"The world shall become better if everyone was capable, if everyone was great." I said.

"What are you saying Hero?" Asked Therasa.

"My name's Sparrow ma'am. And I ask only one thing." I replied...

* * *

Theresa did not count on Sparrow making his own wish. She had no idea where this future would take her.

Because a top of the spire, on the 23rd October 1673, 31 years into Sparrow's life, he made one simple wish.

He wished that every single person in Albion had the ability to be a hero.

Compared to money, his loved ones or the return of all the workers of the spire, this wish had no immediate consequence. Indeed, even after this wish, when Sparrow retired from adventuring to bring up a family, there was only one time in five years that wish had made any difference.

A man went crazy in the centre of Bowerstone and began to shoot every single person he came across. What made this case unusual is that he succeeded in doing so, and held off the guards for a full six hours. In the end, it was a rather brave child, who realised that for some strange reason the man was incapable of killing him, who managed to give him a huge splinter with a wooden sword. The crazy man died 4 days later in custody, suffering from a infection.

But in the year 1678, five years after the hero of Bowerstone made his wish, the first consequences of his actions began to appear...

* * *

**Bloodstone**

**Year of our light 1678**

**November 22nd**

.

Theo was used to the boredom. Throughout the twelve years of his life he got used to the fact that he may never play with another child. That he couldn't join in with the kids outside playing "The dread pirate". He realised that he had to take care of his little sister Sophie whilst mum "Worked" and dad drank the money away. But as little Theo starred out of the window of his attic room he couldn't help but feel trapped. Outside was a world full of wonder, there were villains to stop, Dragons to slay, and, should he had not subscribed to the school of cuties, women to woo.

But all Theo could do was watch.

Sophie began to cry again. At the tender age of 18 months, she could not be left alone, barely even for a second. Their mother was never around to feed her,, so the act of feeding her usually came under his responsibilities.

"I'll just get a bottle from downstairs Sophie. Please, don't throw up again." Said little Theo.

He began to walk down the stairs of his dilapidated house towards the pantry.

Theo ruffled his wild un-kept hair. Scratching away some nits that were beginning to take root. He would have to ask mummy if she could run her bi-weekly bath a little early this time.

He picked up his favourite toy, the last toy his mum had ever managed to buy him. His toy pistol. Every day, he would shoot the sticky bullets at the wall of his attic room. Half to entertain Sophie and stop her from crying, but also to imagine himself as a great musketeer, fighting authority, stealing from the rich and greedy and giving to the poor and needy. He dreamt he had friends who would die for him, that he would do the same. He dreamt he had girls who'd swoon at the sight of him, and would inject themselves with a anti-cutie vaccine. He dreamt he had a house in the forests of brightwood, where he could have little rabbits, and live and look after his little sister, with enough room for his mum to stay when she wanted to.

But in his heart he knew these were pipe dreams.

He opened the doors to the pantry and began to look around. There were plenty of bottles of milk left, a few rotten cheeses, some celery and some tofu. Mum had been hooked on the "Purity" diet, which was rumoured to bring great beauty to the dieter.

He grabbed a bottle of milk in one hand, toy gun in the other. He closed the door with his foot and began to walk up the stairs. He managed to make it halfway up the stairs when he heard to voices from outside approaching. One of them was the unmistakeable drunken voice of his father. The other was a posh man, with a refined accent. They were talking very loudly, so loudly that little Theo could hear them, even from inside the house.

"...Not the boy mind you. Someone has to keep the name." Said his father.

"Of course Mr Harkness. I shall have to inspect the child before I make my offer of course." Said the strange posh man.

Theo became curious. He absently minded placed his toy gun and bottle of milk on the floor and looked hid in the nearby cupboard.

His Father began to slowly, haphazardly, walk up the stairs towards Sophie. The posh man began to do the same. Through the slit in the door Theo could get a good look at him now. He was short for a normal adult, had greying, but not fully grey hair. He walked with a cane, which had a lion on the top. But he never leaned on it. It just seemed to be there for show. He wore a Tatty coat, but Theo could tell this was just a cover, for underneath he wore a silken shirt, and had cotton gloves on. He wore a pair of spectacles, precariously hanging from his nose.

"This is her?" Asked the man.

"Yep. Little Sophie. Quite a hand... A delightful little girl." Said the father.

"Then why are you giving her up?" Asked the old man. _What!_

"We can't look after her. And I want a new sofa." Said the father non-chalently.

"You mentioned you have a son?" Asked the old man.

"Yeah. The bastard's sposed to be looking after her." Said the father.

"I see. Well. She looks healthy, and she'd make a fine addition to my _Family_." Said the old man, "I shall collect her tomorrow, once I have secured transport make north."

"Great." Said the father. The old man nodded and walked away.

Theo couldn't believe what he had over heard. His own father selling his daughter, and his sister, to some creepy old man. Once his father had left the room and began to make his way back to the Bloodstone tavern, Theo finally left the cupboard.

"Oh my." He said to Sophie. "They can't take you away. Mum wouldn't let them."

The cruel irony was that despite Little Theo's assurance's it was his mother's idea in the first place. She had realised the stress looking after her had put on Theo, plus she wanted more time to relax and more money to spend on her self. Indeed, the old man the was to collect the child was a "Client" of hers.

Of course, this irony would only last as long as Theo didn't know about this, but that wasn't for quite a number of years.

"They won't take you away." Said Theo. He swallowed. "I won't let them."

Theo began to walk down the stairs. He walked towards the cupboard that his dad had thought thoroughly locked. Of course, Theo had been able to unlock it since he was five years old, but knowing the contents of the cupboard he had no reason to enter it before. But times it seemed were changing. It took him three seconds to carefully pick lock the door. Inside where two things. A rather rusty old cutlass and a single Flintlock pistol. Theo grabbed the pistol, knowing he wouldn't be able to carry the cutlass very far. He grabbed a nearby backpack and placed the pistol inside. He then moved to the larder, grabbing as much milk and food as his pack could carry. Moving quickly, he ran towards the little jewellery box and grabbed a bag of gold coins his mum had hide under her plastic jewellery. It came to roughly one hundred gold coins. He looked up, realising this would be the last time he would see this house. It didn't particular sadden him, but from here on in he knew it would just be him and Sophie. He ran up the stairs and looked into the crib. There was the softly cooing bundle of blankets. He carefully picked her up and placed her against his shoulder.

"Come on Sophie. We've got to go." He said softly.

He carefully walked down the stairs, trying not to alarm her. He tiptoed across the ground floor, slowly making his way to the door. He gave the dilapidated house one last look, and, with a heavy sigh, began to make his way to the docks, hoping to hide on a ship to Westcliff...

* * *

It took 5 days of sailing for Theo and Sophie to sail towards Westcliff. The two of them spent two months on the wet, damp streets begging for money and food. Eventually Theo realised that he could not look after Sophie. He gave her to a loving couple, but they couldn't let him in. At the age of thirteen, he was unable to get a normal job. But now he was all alone, without anyone. He decided to use the last of his gold to jump on a carriage towards Bowerstone.

It was here that we return to his story...

The great stone walls of the city stretched around for miles. As far as he could see there were Houses, cranes, a high castle and a large clock tower. It was unlike anything he had ever seen in his rather short life. It was here that he would make or break it. It was here he would live or die.

"End of the road kid." Said the Carriage driver.

"Thanks sir." Replied Theo. The driver nodded at the child.

Theo hopped off of the carriage and looked around. To his right was a large open general store. In front of him was the great Bowerstone bridge. Across there was the large clock tower, and a marketplace. Theo decided that was the best place to go. As he walked across the cobblestone bridge, pass the stands offering Drinks, meat and fish. The smell was fantastic. The clock tower read one o'clock in the afternoon. The sun was high in the sky, and the marketplace was crowded with people.

Though he did not know it yet, Theodore Harkness was the first of soon to be many to make a step towards Heroism, and to face the coming end...

* * *

Welcome to my new fic. To give it a brief summary:

This is a Post-fable 2 AU in which Sparrow makes his own wish, and the consequences and action of this dramatic change. The road ahead has the possibility for many characters. If you people would like to make your own characters please, because of new rules I won't put up a check-list, but feel absolutely free to send them in. Add the normal stuff like age, hair colour, skills, height, sex, appearance and more.

See ya.


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